


Champagne Morale

by IntoTheStratosphere



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Forger Reader - Freeform, Pre-Inception, Reader-Insert, Some mentions of drinking, Undercover, fake dating turns real, forger - Freeform, point man - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28457004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheStratosphere/pseuds/IntoTheStratosphere
Summary: Going undercover at a charity ball hosted by one of the richest men in the country was hard enough as it was, but Arthur was certain flying solo would draw more attention than he’d like. If only he knew someone who could act well under pressure and improvise at a moment’s notice... like a top-notch forger.He just hopes she’ll say yes last minute.
Relationships: Arthur (Inception)/Fem Reader, Arthur (Inception)/Forger Reader, Arthur (Inception)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Champagne Morale

This wasn’t exactly how she’d planned to spend her Saturday night.

(Y/N) was dressed to the nines in a gown worth more than all the rest of her wardrobe combined, surrounded by the city’s wealth feigning charity. The older couples stalked the ballroom floor in their finest, eyes catching on anything less than spectacular, staring her down, trying to determine which family she belonged to in order to deserve a place on the guest list. They were like vultures on the hunt, scanning for any sign of imperfection. The only comfort she found was her hand tucked into the crevice of Arthur’s arm, leading her from the prying eyes— her “date” for the evening.

He’d been frantic when he asked her to accompany him earlier in the week, barely letting her get her door open before he’d launched into his rehearsed speech; he’d only just found a way to squeeze his name onto the private guest list of their next target’s charity ball that he’d forgotten to account for the plus one attached to it.

“It would look more suspicious if I arrived alone, plus you’re an excellent forger, so we could better cover each other if we started drawing anyone’s attention.”

She leaned on the doorframe, a bemused smile spreading her lips as he continued to list why it would be mutually beneficial for her to accompany him.  _ He could go on for hours and not list the same reason twice,  _ she thought.  _ Ever the vigilant point man.  _ (Y/N) held up a hand, Arthur falling silent at the gesture, holding her gaze.

“If you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask, Arthur,” she said, throwing a wink his way before closing the door. The last thing she caught was his mouth gaping as he stammered, the tips of his ears hinting pink.

She bit her lip to keep the self-satisfied smile off her face from the memory, reveling at how  _ she _ of all people could get Arthur to crack. Glancing around, she accepted a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, sipping on it a moment before looking towards her companion. He looked dashing, really; his suit was trimmed to perfection, expertly accentuating his slim but fit figure. A black bowtie sat snugly at the base of his throat, albeit a bit off kilter. She stopped him a moment to straighten it, letting her fingers linger a beat on his lapels before smiling up at him. He grinned, a familiar half tilt of his lips before offering his arm to her again. The only thing he hadn’t changed was his hair: slicked back, his signature.

As they paced around the edge of the room, (Y/N)’s eyes darted from face to face. “Which one is he exactly?” She whispered from behind her champagne glass.

Arthur minutely jutted his chin towards a man standing near the temporary stage, surrounded by laughing millionaires. Whether what he had said had actually been funny was only consequence; anything the surrounding gnats could do to earn his favour, they wouldn’t question.

(Y/N)’s eyes fixed on the man over the rim of her glass, studying his mannerisms. He was at least mid fifties, wearing a mild suit that, while designer, didn’t quite suit his loud voice. He slapped the man next to him on the back with a laugh, the poor recipient buckling under his heavy hand. She tilted her head, watching the target hand his plate off to the staggering lackey. Though he grinned at his boss, she could see the pressure building on him as the night went on.  _ There’s the right hand man. _

She turned to Arthur, handing him her nearly drained champagne glass, “Darling, would you mind holding this for me a moment? I’ll be right back.” Before he could protest, she was halfway across the room, bee lining for their target.

He pressed his lips together, watching as she slipped into the inner circle of groupies with ease, throwing her head back with laughter at whatever their target had just said. His jaw clenched at the sight of the man turning his attention her way, bringing her hand to his lips in greeting. He gestured around the room, and Arthur swore he felt a blood vessel pop as the man put a hand to the small of (Y/N)’s back, showing her around the stations he’d had arranged for the ball.

He tried distracting himself, finishing what was left in (Y/N)’s champagne glass as he made a mental note to grab her another before she returned. A passing waiter took the empty flute from his hands, leaving Arthur to shove his hands in his pockets, gripping his loaded die with white knuckles as he turned away from the pair now meandering by the reflection pool, a posse of millionaires trailing slowly after them.

_ As long as she’s having fun.  _ If he clasped his die any tighter it would surely shatter.

Arthur wasn’t left to his sulking for long; (Y/N)’s laughter drifted by his ear a few minutes later, and he turned his head to see his target walking her to where he leant against the wall. The man eyed Arthur up and down, standing straighter before pressing a final kiss to (Y/N)’s knuckles. She looked up at the host through her lashes, a coy smile gracing her features that made Arthur’s heart pang.

_ I’m not… no, I couldn’t be jealous. _

(Y/N) was his friend, had been for years.  _ Are we really only friends though? _ All his memories with her flashed through his mind in an instant, flushed cheeks and tentative touches. As he watched her bid their host a  _ far too fond _ farewell, his pulse raced.  _ Is that all we are? _

She grinned until the target finally turned away from the pair, letting the disgust fall over her features when she knew his gaze was elsewhere. “I swear to God if he touched me one more time I was going to  _ vomit. _ ”

Arthur could barely restrain his laughter, the target shooting him a glare that he didn’t care to cower from. He wrapped one arm around (Y/N)’s midsection, rubbing soothing circles into the exposed skin as she brooded.

“Am I allowed to spend time with my date now?”

“Come on, you know I did that for the intel. Plus I can learn so many new characters from those snobby wannabes.”

“I’m sure you did.”

He grinned as she threw a weak punch into his chest, minding how she just as quickly drew back into his hold. The little green monster was sated for now. In fact, it certainly didn’t mind when she asked him for a dance,  _ to get the feeling of his hands on me out of my mind,  _ dragging him to the middle of the room where they blended in with the swarm of couples roused by the band.

He took her hand, his other falling to her waist, swaying quickly to the jazzy tune, watching laughter,  _ genuine _ laughter bubble up her throat. Arthur dipped (Y/N) low, breathless by the way her hair fell from its intricate styling. He grinned at her, pulling her back into his chest, their breaths mingling as the tempo picked up again. For a song, they weren’t two con artists studying a target, two friends pretending to be dates— they were a complementary pair, dancing the night away oblivious to the pompous splendor surrounding them. Anyone who looked at them could tell the chemistry they shared— even the jealous host watching from the sidelines, his arms crossed over his chest.

When the song ended, their chests heaving from exertion, all the room applauded the quintet situated on the temporary stage, bowing to their audience before starting up their next melody. (Y/N) and Arthur drifted away from the dance floor, locking arms as they sought the cool air blowing over the reflection pool.

They strolled around as they talked, glancing over the small tables of finger foods scattered on their way, careful to keep a good deal of distance from the man of the hour who hadn’t stopped shooting Arthur venomous looks since their dance ended. (Y/N) was pointing out a tray full of exotic caviar worth as much food that could feed an entire household for months when Arthur noticed the security on the edge of the room, eyeing the pair with wary expressions.

He watched from his peripheral as one stepped up behind the host on the stage, preparing himself for his speech to thank all the wealthy donors in the room as the band was packing away their instruments. He stalled as the guard whispered in his ear, his gaze latching onto the pair once more with a newfound suspicion.

Arthur cleared his throat, turning (Y/N) away from the stage with a hand on her arm, looking out over the calm waters. “We may have to leave soon.”

Her eyes snapped up to his, masking her surprise with a pleasant expression. He could tell she was listening into the conversations around them, trying to key in to how long they had.

The security detail became more mobile across the room, moving towards the exits of the venue. Arthur swore under his breath, slowing their pace to be equally spaced from the nearest guards. “We’re going to need a diversion.”

“Already on it.”

Arthur didn’t need to question her plan, feeling her weight drop onto his side as she giggled airily— playing drunk, he realized. An older woman nearby scoffed under her breath, something about  _ minding how much one should drink in public, _ and Arthur shot her an apologetic smile, draping one of (Y/N)’s arms around his shoulders to better support her. One of her heels caught around the hem of her dress, (Y/N) kicking it away in a mock drunken huff, pressing further against Arthur’s body. Were he not so hyper aware of the extra guards appearing from the exits, he would have taken just a second to appreciate the sensation of her warmth bleeding into him, filling his chest until he felt he could float without a dream.

He tilted his head down next to her ear, “Alright, we’re going to need a better distraction to get out of here— maybe a prior engagement we forgot about that we need to get to right away—“

Arthur didn’t need to finish the rest of his plan as (Y/N) deftly swiped a leg from under him, teetering over to the side—

Where the reflection pool lay waiting to catch them.

Gasps shot through the crowd to see the tipsy couple splash into the water, rushing to the pool’s edge to watch the chaos. While the host hastened to the microphone to call for attention and order, the feedback making all the guests cringe under the volume, under the surface Arthur shook his head incredulously at (Y/N), who only shot him a cheeky wink.

The two emerged, beautiful clothes ruined, gasping for air. A handful of guards reached for their hands, pulling them from the water as some waiters went off to fetch some towels. (Y/N) shivered, clinging to Arthur’s arm as she sobbed, apologizing for ruining such a lovely evening meant for charity.

Arthur had to keep from rolling his eyes at the theatrics.  _ Expert forger indeed, _ there wasn’t a single face without a pitiful turn of the lip, (Y/N)’s performance tugging at her audience’s hearts. If he didn’t know her, he was sure she’d even get a reaction out of  _ him. _

She shivered in his arms, stumbling to her feet as her gown clung to her legs. She sniffled, her mascara dripping down her face— whether from the water still dripping from her hair or her expertly crafted tears no one could tell. As a waitress passed along some warm towels, Arthur thanked her and began to move towards the exit, catching the glimmer of mischief in (Y/N)’s eye as they finally passed through the crowd.

As the wealthy elites finally drew back towards the host on the stage, Arthur risked a whisper to his date, “Certainly not what I had in mind, but you definitely got the job done. You know, if you wanted our date to be over, you could have just asked, (Y/N).”

Arthur could only glimpse (Y/N)’s bemused face as she realized what he said before she pushed him towards the pool again, but not before he caught her wrist and dragged her back in with him.

The host sighed on stage to see the happy couple go under once more, smothering the jealousy at having lost quite a catch.

Before (Y/N) could begin to swim for the surface, Arthur pulled her face towards his, grinning as her lips met his eagerly, bubbles dancing around their bodies as they floated a moment, too caught up in one another to care for air or what waited for them when they’d resurface once more.

They finally broke apart, pulling one another to the surface to greedily drink in lungfuls of oxygen. The only crowd to greet them this time was the waitstaff informing them they would have to leave. The two ducked their heads in apology, rushing out the door before anyone else would think to stop them.

When they burst onto the street in front of the lavish venue, wrapped in one another in a desperate attempt to keep warm, (Y/N) turned to Arthur, teeth chattering, “You know, I think I’d prefer we stayed dry on our next date.”

No, she certainly didn’t expect to spend her Saturday night drenched to the bone with a man who’s kisses tasted like champagne and confessions, but she definitely didn’t regret it either.

**Author's Note:**

> I found this absolutely gorgeous picture on Pinterest of a couple kissing underwater and the guy looked like Arthur so this is what came of it lol I also added it to my Arthur board. Hope you enjoy <3


End file.
